Deathless

Chapter 39: Millie

The odd sensation inside my belly, like tugging but not quite, fades instantly. Even so, I lean on my knees for support as I adjust to having been on a tropical island only a second before.

I'm not sure what I'm expecting from Scythe HQ, but it isn't this. If the human world, as Jackson calls it, is in chaos, then this place is in absolute anarchy. Smoke pools upwards from burns on the ebony walls and floor, scars from where weapons have missed their mark. People are scrambling around or huddled nearby, weeping together. A few people in dark uniforms seem to restrain people and drag them away. Cracks shatter every wall, and ominous white light peers through like reality itself is collapsing in on itself.

This is a war zone.

A war zone that looks a lot like it used to be the sleek reception of a large corporation—a massive, echoing atrium, black everything. The only colour is the silver veins running through the marble floors and gold trimmings on the wreckage of furniture. A colossal statue of the Grim Reaper is in the centre, travelling from the floors below us to the floors above. Great spider-webs of cracks run up his centre, and dripping red words are spray-painted across his torso.

Save us.

"What the hell is..." I start but Jackson drags me under the remains of a desk in the corner, pushing on my shoulders until I kneel close to the ground, his body pressed close to mine, the warmth of his breath on my ear.

"Scythe is falling apart. Without the Death realm, it can't exist. And neither can we. People are scared. And someone is taking advantage." I nod, following Jackson's angry gaze as he stares at the uniformed soldiers that are grabbing people roughly and hauling them across the room.

"They're called Death Wardens, they're the Scythe army. They're arresting people when they should be trying to get them to safety. But why?"

A large chunk of marble drops from the ceiling just ahead. I scream, scrambling backwards and slamming hard into the wall. Jackson grabs my arm to steady me. A cloud of dust rises upward, blocking our vision for a moment. "What next?", I say, my voice gravelly.

"You see the statue?" He points towards the giant Grim Reaper. "That's where the device is. We just need to get to it."

"There's like, fifty soldiers. How exactly are we going to do that?" Jackson's face drops as he considers my words. Then a hand squeezes my arm.

"He needs a distraction, that's what."

When I turn my head Lucius is behind us, his face grim, but Jackson exhales, happy to see him.

"You've got an idea?" Jackson mutters as a Death Warden passes close to where we're positioned under the desk.

"Maybe, but not a good one."

Jackson slaps him hard on the back, grinning as Lucius holds out his hands to pull us both up.

"That's a start."

"Follow me, and keep low." We nod, following Lucius as he leads us away from the fray.

***

The office space we're running through is empty, though I spot the occasional determined soul still working or cowering under their desk. Large chunks of ceiling and floor are missing, with more threatening to collapse on top of us. Debris, crumbling walls and the wreckage of computers and desks block our way, making progress slow. Lucius leads us into a large office. He shuts the door quietly behind us and sinks into the chair behind the desk, immediately rummaging through the drawers.

"Where are we?" I ask, breathless, adrenalin turning my heart into a steel drum.

"This is my boss Jeanette's office," Jackson mutters, pacing the space. He exhales, running his hands through his hair before turning to his friend. "What's your idea? We need to get to the statue. Death created some kind of device, Atropos called it the Chronica. We can use to reverse time."